


Never Again

by MothMeetsFlame



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Plug, Dom!Sam, Dom/sub, Dubious Consent, Fisting, Implied Sadism, M/M, One Shot, PWP, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Punishment, Rough Oral Sex, Sexual Slavery, Spitroasting, dom!Dean, kind of, sub!cas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-10
Updated: 2015-09-10
Packaged: 2018-04-20 01:16:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4768091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MothMeetsFlame/pseuds/MothMeetsFlame
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: Any more planned with Castiel as slave!sub??</p><p>"If there’s one thing Dean doesn't like, it’s disobedience. But flushed red, eyes rolling back into his head while he plays with himself, Cas couldn’t care less."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Never Again

**Author's Note:**

> Why I'm writing smut instead of finishing my homework, I have no fucking idea. Except... I'm kinda horny, so I guess slave!sub!Cas it is. 
> 
> WARNING: This fic contains intense fuckery and some dub-con and fisting and slave/sub stuff that isn't even close to real but people get butthurt about anyway. I'm too tired to put a real warning up, so just read the tags and stuff, and if you're not sure about triggers and things, click the back button. Okay? Okay. On with the show. 
> 
> Written for the wonderful Pixie, who wanted more slave!sub!Cas. 
> 
> This thing has been revised and edited by a sleep-deprived horndog, so don't be surprised if it's riddled with errors and stuff. I'll fix it later.
> 
> Enjoy ;)

The new plug they got him was much bigger than his last one. It hit his prostate just right, and Cas couldn’t help but moan even though he wasn’t on his bench like he was supposed to be. Instead, he rocked back onto the plug, both knees planted firmly on the scratchy carpet, and ignored the rules, the ones saying _don’t touch, Dean’s only, not for slave hands_.

If there’s one thing Dean doesn't like, it’s disobedience. But flushed red, eyes rolling back into his head while he toys with his prostate, the plug slotting into him just right, Cas couldn’t care less. Even Dean clearing his throat, breaking through the squelching sound of frantic thrusts and too much lube isn’t enough to pull him out of his stupor until strong hands wrap around his wrists and force them away from his hole.

The plug drops to the ground. A cloying ache resonates through Cas, his empty hole twitching around air.

“Couldn’t wait, Cas?” Despite the amusement, there’s a sharp edge to the words that makes Cas half-regret disobeying.

“Dean...” he whispers. The rest of his words lodge in his throat as four of Dean’s fingers shove their way past his slippery rim.

The sudden full feeling has him gasping, and he moans at the contact.

Dean’s rough, almost too rough. He thrusts his fingers inside quickly, fucking them into Cas’ rapidly clenching hole. He pulls them all the way out, tucking his thumb into his other fingers, and slips his whole hand inside, as quick and easy as can with Cas fucked open and slippery from his plug.

The plug wasn’t big enough, but Dean’s hand doesn’t have that problem. The knuckles stretch Cas open further than the plug could ever have hoped to. Dean’s thick wrist parts his rim, keeps him stretched open despite the frantic clenching and the whines of pain.

Dean opens his hand inside of him, fingers wiggling, stretching his inner walls past the point of pain and into something he can only describe as a kalnienk feeling of pleasure, forcing him deeper into submission.

Dean’s hand closes into a fist, and Cas screams when Dean shoves it inside of him, sheathing his entire forearm. Cas’ arms buckle beneath him, and his cheek rubs against the carpet, the feeling hardly distracting him from the immense pain Dean’s arm causes.

He can feel it inside, deep inside, stretching him open further than he’s ever been stretched before. Nothing’s ever been so deep inside him, to the point where his stomach rolls and he wonders if Dean’s hand is touching it.

Pain, crippling pain, shoots up his spine, makes tears prick at his eyes. He takes in a shuddering breath, struggling not to scream, but the feeling intensifies until there’s nothing else. There’s no carpet, no motel room, no honking cars or screaming neighbors, no air to pull into his lungs.

His head swims, and his vision blurs. His entire body trembles as Dean opens his hand deep inside of him and wiggles his fingers. It's too much.

He's stretched to the brink, open further than he's ever been before with nothing but that plug to prepare him. He begs with every inch of his body, trying so hard to keep still, not flinch away from Dean’s touch, to stop the whimpers from turning into whines as Dean clenches his fist closed and pumps in and out of him.

Cas’ eyes slip closed, and his muscles go lax, his entire body sinking into the floor while Dean plays with him. His head swims, floating on a river of pained pleasure that has his skin tingling like a near-deadened limb.

It's hours before Dean stops, hours before he pulls his arm out for more than a few seconds add more lube or stare at Cas’ obscenely stretched hole.

The motel room door opens, and Dean pulls his arm out of Cas’ stomach long enough to greet his brother.

“Hey, Sammy.” Dean wiggles his slick fingers in Sam’s direction.

Cas lazily opens his eyes and lifts his head from the floor. It falls again when Dean’s arm spears him open once more, but he nuzzles Sam’s calf when he stands close enough for him to touch. It doesn’t matter that Dean’s hand is now a fist and is moving roughly inside of him. He presses a light kiss to Sam’s ankle and rests a hot cheek against the toe of Sam’s cool boot.

Sam runs a hand through his hair, petting the soft strands. A small shiver runs up Cas’ spine at the simple touch of fingers coming over his scalp, and he leans into it, wanting more.

Before he realizes what’s happening, Sam latches onto his hair and drags him up on his knees. The change in position makes him shudder as Dean’s arm angles inside of him. He can feel the press of Dean’s fist, his stomach bulging out to accommodate it.

He’d thought he was numb to it though, numb to the pain so that only a deadened pleasure could be felt from being stretched so wide. But Sam pulling him to his knees forces him open even more than he’d been before, and all Cas can do is try to stay loose enough to keep from causing too much damage.

A large sob builds in his chest, and he tries to hold it back, but the pain is too much. He sobs once. Just once. Holds back everything else, but he sobs once.

Shame colors his cheeks, turning them an even brighter shade of pink, but neither brother seems to notice.

Sam lowers his zipper and releases his cock. It bobs in front of Cas’ face for a moment before Sam grips it tight in his fist and feeds it into Cas’ mouth.

Cas chokes on the thick shaft, but Sam forces it inside, deep into the recesses of his mouth until it pushes past, straight into his throat. Sam moans as he pulls out, shoves inside of Cas' mouth, filling him front and back.

Cas has never been so full.

Sam latches onto his hair with both hands, fucks into him while his brother does the same behind him. Cas panics, tries to pull against Sam’s hold, whimpers as much as he can with his throat filled like it is as Dean punches into his stomach.

He keeps his jaw loose through sheer willpower, even though it screams in protest at being stretched further than it should be around a shaft that has no business forcing his jaw as wide as it is.

It’s less time than Dean’s fist has been inside of him, but the lack of oxygen makes it feel much longer before Sam comes.

Cas struggles to swallow everything down, risks drowning if he doesn't since there's no room for all of it to dribble down his chin. There's too much come and too little room for it to go anywhere but down his throat, so he takes it.

The tremors grow, full body shudders that Cas tries to hold back, but everything hurts. It's worse than being left out all night. More painful than kneeling in rice for hours, lonelier than being tied and strapped to the bed, naked, gagged, blindfolded without even a touch to smooth him.

This is worse. Far worse.

As much as they've played with him, he's never felt so used.

Another sob builds in his chest, but he forces this one down, deep inside of himself until he's sure that if Dean were to stretch out his fingers, he could stroke that little part of Cas that he keeps hidden.

Eventually, Sam pulls out. Leftover come dribbles down his chin, but Cas can't close his mouth, doesn't know how to work the muscles, is too exhausted to even try.

He stays on his knees until Sam pushes him back down, and then he's on all fours again, arms trembling trying to hold his weight. Long fingers join the fist inside of him, and more tears fall from Cas’ eyes.

A hoarse cry escapes him, but it dies off into whimpers of pain as he's stretched even further than Dean’s fist alone ever could.

Never again, he vows. Never again.

He won't do it. He can't.

Only Sam and Dean can play with him.

He's _their_ toy, not his own.

Never his own.

He doesn't even know why he ever did it in the first place, why he thought he could get away from it, why he touched himself.

With that thought, he falls hard, not even minding when his arms give out and drop him onto the floor. His legs slide out from beneath him, forcing him forward until his entire torso is flush with the carpet. His cheek rubs against now-sticky wetness of Sam’s come, and his knees slide further apart.

Loose-limbed and trembling, he sighs with relief when they remove themselves from his hole.

There's blood, a small stream of lube and semen from the loads he'd taken before the brothers had left him. It hurts, the sudden exposure, more than the fist that had been inside of him. It' a different kind of pain, foreign, and that makes it worse somehow.

But he understands.

They don't have to tell him, but he understands.

He is theirs.

He'll take what they give him, but he won't take any more than that.

Never again.

**Author's Note:**

> If you're happy and you know it, slap your ass.   
> If you're happy and you know it, slap your ass.   
> If you're happy and you know it,   
> and you really wanna show it...   
> If you're happy and you know it, slap my ass. 
> 
> Oops. Typo. 
> 
> ;)


End file.
